Cirque Des Héros
by marcelimnot
Summary: Reimagining 'The Greatest Showman' as a fantasy epic in the 'Fable' universe. Inspired by the inclusion of references to P.T. Barnum in 'Fable 2'.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome and Author's Note

WELCOME!

Those of you who like _Fable 2_ might remember the character Barnum, who is, to some extent, a reference to P.T. Barnum, and who, in the alternate universe of the game, mentions that he does, in fact, have an uncle Phineas. Well, in view of the hit that is _The Greatest Showman_ , I thought it would be fun to do a crossover parody in the _Fable_ universe, reimagining _The Greatest Showman_ as a fantasy epic. I would have had some qualms about doing this using the real-life P.T. Barnum, but I think that I can pull it off with the movie version.

It should be noted that there will be two characters named Barnum. Barnum is the _Fable 2_ character referencing P.T. Barnum. Phineas is the fantastical, alternate-reality version of P.T. Barnum.

Obviously, this is a parody, and not fully representative of either the movie or the game. The elements of both remain property of their respective owners. This is purely for amusement, and not written for profit, nor am I trying to pass off any of the elements from the game or the movie as my own inventions.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!


	2. Chahpter 2: Uncle Phineas

CHAPTER 1: UNCLE PHINEAS

 _Life was looking up for Barnum. What with his business venture paying off, he was feeling very good about life. Even better, his business partner, who happened to be none other than Lionheart, famed hero and champion of the Crucible, had nothing to do with the success of the venture. No, Lionheart had gone off heaven knows where for ten years, and it was Barnum, and Barnum alone, who built the Westcliff settlement from the ground up. Who cared if it was raining ninety percent of the time, when there was an excellent swimming beach? Why, you were soaking wet when you went swimming, even if the sun was shining! What did it matter that the Crucible was still running a bloodsport arena in the neighbourhood? People paid buckets to see that sort of thing! What did it matter that the beautiful little town was surrounded by an inhospitable forest full of hungry balverines? That's what Lionheart was for! Oh, and the tour caravans, of course._

 _On reflection, Barnum realised that it was strange that his venture had paid off so well._

 _He wondered why he had thought it was a good place for a tourist trap._

 _Then he wondered why the tourists flocked to the trap, and realised he was less the fool than they._

 _On the evening when our tale starts, Barnum was enjoying a pint at the inn and pub, with none other than Lionheart._

 _Barnum drained his mug and called for another round, contentedly surveying the game master taking money from the gamblers bidding at spinnerbox. By and by, he asked Lionheart, 'So, my cromulent partner, how fares the life of an adventurer?'_

 _It should be noted that Barnum's vocabulary was somewhat … unique. Twenty years prior, he had come into the possession of a thesaurus which was as cromulent as the entry which made him believe that cromulent, in fact, meant 'faithful'. He had never shaken the belief that it was a genuine publication, and even had it committed to memory. No matter how much Lionheart protested the contrary, Barnum would never believe it was a fake._

 _Lionheart sighed, 'You know how it is. Hard work, little pay. Still, people seem more grateful these days.'_

 _Barnum did not pursue the issue. He knew that Lionheart had recently had some harrowing experience or another, and was not one to make a man talk when he would rather not. Instead, he said, 'Blasted conviviacious weather today.' The rain was smattering against the windows angrily._

 _Lionheart nodded, draining his own mug. 'I'm used to it, though. When I was a child, we lived in a shack, and slept on old flour sacks. The walls never kept out the rain when it was this fierce.'_

 _Barnum felt guilty. 'Well, old chap, I remember when I first met you. You couldn't have been more than eight, and your sister not much older. If I'd have known how bad things were, I would have … Well, I'm not sure, really. I recall giving you my last coin. All part of the failed picture-taking enterprisinating.'_

 _'It's alright,' said Lionheart, 'There's nothing you could have done. We were orphans. There were many orphans on Bowerstone, then. It was what it was.'_

 _Barnum sighed. 'Such is life, eh, my boy? Such. Is. Life.'_

 _After a short silence, Barnum took his new beer, kicked back in his chair, and said, 'Fell on hard times early, myself. Got through them alright, in the end. It's mostly thanks to my uncle Phineas.'_

 _Lionheart said nothing. He sensed a story coming._

 _Barnum continued, 'Old Uncle Phineas. What an entrepeunator he was. Did you know he inventified the Albion Circus?'_

 _Lionheart felt that this claim might be rather spurious, but he knew it was best not to interrupt._

 _Barnum continued, 'Yes, it's quite a tale, I'll tell you that.'_

 _And he did._

…

Phineas Taylor Barnum's father was a tailour. He worked in Bowerstone, city of trade and capital of Albion. In those days, tailours were not especially well paid for their services. It was the time before per-manufactured or specialised clothing, for the most part. However, in Bowerstone, there was one shop – the shop where Phineas' father purchased his fabrics – which stocked a select number of gentleman's suits. While his father was inside purchasing silk and linen, Phineas would stand beneath the sign which read 'Pants!' and depicted a pair of gentleman's breeches with a spool of thread and a needle, gazing at a handsome, red suit coat and a waistcoat with gold buttons. The ensemble would be topped by a tall, black top-hat, balancing on the head of the mannequin. Phineas dreamed that one day, he would own the full outfit.

He dreamed a lot of things. He dreamed that he would marry Charity, the daughter of one of his father's rich clients in Fairfax Gardens. He dreamed that he would own a beautiful mansion in Fairfax Gardens, and live there with his wife and children. He dreamed of greatness. He dreamed of adventures and far-off places. He dreamed of being a Hero, like the great Heroes of old, in the time before the fall of the Guild.

Then, one day, Phineas' father died. It was during a bandit raid while they were on the road from Bowerstone to Oakfield. Phineas survived by diving into Bower Lake and holding his breath as long as he could. His record was five minutes. He wanted to help, but his father had told him to hide, and he knew he was too young to do much.

When he resurfaced, the other travelling traders were all dead. Only their guide remained alive, and was looting the scene of the massacre with the bandits. Phineas immediately realised the guide was an undercover bandit.

That day, he decided to add revenge to his list for the future.

For the time being, though, he could do nothing but stay alive. He made his way back to Bowerstone, and lived on the streets. It was a hard life, full of violence and hunger, but he managed to steal or earn morsels of food, as well as paper and charcoal to write to Charity, who had been sent to an elite boarding school in Greatwood. He would wait until the postmaster went by on his rounds, and sneak the unstamped letters inside the postmaster's pack to avoid payment.

It was a terrible life.

Then, one day, opportunity came calling. A sailing ship stopped by with a crew from a place of which he had never heard before. It was called Bloodstone. He eavesdropped on the gnarled, leathery seamen as they swaggered from pub to pub. He learned that Bloodstone was a town of seafarers, pirates and rapscallions. It all sounded terribly exciting.

Then Phineas learned why it was such an obscure location. Townspeaple made the sign of divine protection when they saw the sailours, and whispered of the town beyond Wraithmarsh. Phineas knew that Wraithmarsh was an evil, cursed locale, full of balverines and hollow men, and, so legend said, the specters of banshees which waited for a sentient being to wander into their realm, to be destroyed or enslaved by them.

The only way to get to Bloodstone by land was through Wraithmarsh, and the only boats that would dock there belonged to men of ill-repute.

However, Phineas was desperate. He signed up for a place in the crew. He was a hard worker, after all.

Ten years later, he was self-sufficient, but did not like to remember those years.

Phineas married Charity against her parents' will, and they set up a home in Old Town. It was the oldest section of Bowerstone, but also the poorest.

They were happy when they were together.

Not so much, however, when Phineas went to work at the accounting firm in Bowerstone Market.

However, they had two beautiful little girls, and overall, things weren't too bad.

That might have been an end of the story for most, but for Phineas Barnum, it was just the beginning.


	3. Chapter 3: Luck be a Liar

CHAPTER 2: LUCK BE A LIAR

 ** _Disclaimer: This chapter contains some direct quotes from 'Fable 2' and 'The Greatest Showman'. These belong to their respective, legal owners and are used here as spoof-parody material. They do not belong to me._**

The trouble really started when Charity got pregnant. Old Town, once the centre of a thriving trade city, was now ramshackle, dirty and, what was worse, riddled with crime. Of course, Phineas was keen to remove his wife and future child to a more secure locale, but money would not allow such a move. So, Phineas decided he must begin saving in earnest. Charity did not mind. She told him: 'No matter how big or small our house and plans, I want to be a part of it all. We'll make something out of it. We'll share our dreams.'

Unfortunately, Phineas' job paid little to begin with, without taking any money to put away for the future. He hated leaving Charity, pregnant, and with too little food in the house, while he slaved at his desk for hours every day.

The evening walks home also concerned him, for walk he must. There were no horses in the narrow streets of Old Town, and were there any, he could not spare the gold coin fee. So, he would walk, down the darkening streets, all of which counted as back alleys, save for Main Street. Worse, a plague of smallpox arrived when Charity was four months pregnant, confining her to their quarters to prevent infection. Every day, Phineas would kiss her goodbye and, drawing his coat on to stave off the cold, wrap up so completely that only his eyes were uncovered. He would walk as fast as he could, avoiding crowds, and hoping that nobody at work would be in the early stages pf the illness. Coffins lined Cemetery Road, unclaimed, lying ready for their occupants of the next day.

Only the undertakers and the coffin makers were getting rich in Old Town. That is to say, the ones who lived.

After work, Phineas would trot home and, on the doorstep, strip to his undergarments. He would go straight to the basin and wash with lye soap to ensure that he would purge the disease from his skin before going to Charity and eating dinner.

It was a terrifying time for both of them. The thing that kept Phineas going was coming home to charity, with her laughing eyes, gentle smile, and her way of making even the most drab outfit seem fetching. She dressed in blue a lot, which Phineas found very soothing. He loved to run his fingers through her blonde, silky hair while she sang to him and mended their clothes by the fire.

One day, Phineas was wandering home when he found his usual route blocked. There was a new trader in town, and all the people willing to brave the streets were hustling about him, those too far away craning their necks to see. Phineas wondered what he could be selling that was worth risking infection. _'He's either a very brave man, or very stupid,'_ Phineas thought, _'especially when one considers that nobody here can afford much of anything.'_ Although somewhat curious, Phineas did not want to brave the throng. Instead, he scanned about for another way home.

Phineas quickly realised that the only way forward was through the alleys near Market Road. While things became more sedate and orderly the closer you got to Bowerstone Market, the first sector of the road was so bad that there were lock-out laws for anyone lingering there after nightfall. Phineas knew a way home along Market Road, but had only ever traveled that way in the morning on his way to work. To reverse it, near night time, could not only be dangerous, but could leave him locked out until morning.

Phineas decided to try elbowing his way through the crowd after all, but to no avail. It was too tightly packed, and nobody wanted to let him through. Frustrated, he decided there was nothing for it but to go down Market Road.

Phineas trudged glumgy through the sludge on the roads, and a light snow began falling about him as he scanned for danger. The alleys branching out from the road were eerily silent, aside from the sound of the bitter wind and the mewling of fighting cats. Unfortunately, he soon realised that the alley leading home was blocked halfway down, and his way home was cut off by a pile of coffins outside a building. Fearful of infection, and seeing nobody in charge of the splintered, wooden mass, he climbed a nearby wall into unfamiliar terrain, hoping to pick up his route further down.

Phineas was a strong, able-bodied man, due to his years at sea. Climbing all but the more sheer surfaces was quite possible for him, under most circumstances. The walls in Old Town were ramshackle, with nooks and stones peeping out opportunely to offer foot and hand holds. Even though the nearest fence was tall, he soon found himself plopping down into the ghastly excuse for a back-garden that belonged to a local business. It could have been a pub or a bawdy house, but Phineas was not sure. On his way to the wall across the way, he stopped to examine the dirty windows, which were lit dimly from the inside. His feet ankle-deep in mud and snow slush, he froze.

Inside the rickety building, he saw a line of children in chains. Dirty men and women with ill-favoured countenances and cruelty in their eyes made motions or called out as a man at the front of the line of children shouted prices. Finally, he dragged one of the children, a little boy, out of the line, and shoved him towards a man with a red headscarf and a long, saw-edged sword.

Slavery was illegal in Albion, but that did not mean it did not occur. Old Town was a likely area for it to thrive, for the guards were underpaid, overworked, and often as not very corrupt. Many of them would happily have accepted a bribe to look the other way for a slave trader to conduct his business.

Phineas considered what to do. He could not simply walk in there and rescue the children. He was no Hero of legends, after all. He was, however, strong, fast, and clever. _'Think, man,'_ he thought. _'There must be a way.'_

As Phineas was trying to formulate a plan, he noticed that one of the children stood out from the others. He could not tell if it was a boy or a girl, as it was wrapped in a ragged cloak that covered its head, but he could tell that it was bow-legged and very stocky. _'Perhaps it has the pox,'_ he thought, _'and that scoundrel at the front is trying to sell the poor child before anyone finds out.'_

At that moment, something smashed Phineas on the back of his head, and stars exploded in front of his eyes. There was a grunting laugh, and he felt himself pulled up by the collar and forced through the door.

Everybody turned, their eyes on Phineas and his attacker. The slave trader laughed. 'Hey-ho, Ricko, my man! You found a skulker there?'

'Yes I have,' said a deep, scratchy voice from behind Phineas. 'He was having a fine little peep in the window. Came over the fence. Didn't expect to find us, I reckon. Didn't see me having a smoke in the corner, neither.'

Phineas, recovering from the blow, nearly knocked Ricko to the ground, but was ambushed and bound by several of the other men in the room. He was outnumbered thirty-to-one, and there was nothing he could do.

The people in the room all laughed as if it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. The slave trader smiled, his lips curling like a rabid dog. 'No worries. Looks like we have another lot to sell tonight, ladies and gents. And isn't he a strong one? Could do any labour you had a mind for him to do.'

Phineas continued to struggle, but was cut short when the child who was shrouded in the shawl suddenly exploded in a flash of light. The flash extended outwards, knocking the bidders and auctioneer to the ground. The child leaped forward, and, to Phineas astonishment, raised its arms and began to chant something. Suddenly, shadowy forms appeared. Some were chickens, and others looked vaguely like humans. The other shadows resembled nothing other than ...

'Hobbes!' gasped Phineas.

It had been a long time since Phineas had seen a hobbe. He had hoped never to see one again.

Not that that was the most surprising thing about the scenario.

The bidders got up and drew their weapons, but as the shadows multiplied, it became clear they did not have a chance. Soon, the room was a writhing mass of scum trying to escape, and of shadowy, vague figures, whose weapons were not nearly so shadowy and insubstantial as they appeared.

By the time every man and woman of ill repute lay dead on the floor, the hooded child had freed all the other children from their bonds, and was walking towards Phineas.

Phineas recoiled, but the child took out a knife and cut his ropes. Then, he pointed to Phineas, then to the crying children, then back to Phineas. He did this several times.

Phineas, somewhat dazed, stood up and asked. 'What are you trying to say? Do you want me to take care of them?'

The child motioned for Phineas to lean in close. Phineas got down on his knee so that he was on level with the child. The child said in a low, hoarse voice, that did not sound like a human child so much as a baying dog, 'Ask them if they have a home, and see they get there. I can't. If any of them have noplace to go, they can come with me.'

Phineas had a sudden revelation. He sharply pulled away the shawl, so that only he could see what lay beneath.

There was no mistaking it. The bulging eyes; the leathery, greyish skin; the massive underbite with tombstone teeth for grinding bones; the knobbly, stunted joints; the long, distended ears. It was the face of a hobbe; a monster that especially liked to prey on children.

Phineas had seen them once before. He wondered if this was a trick or an ambush, but remembered that hobbes were not particularly intelligent.

The hobbe recoiled from Phineas discovery. Then, he ran out the back door and disappeared into the night.

Phineas knew he had to deal with the children before he did anything else. As it happened, they all had homes, and had been plucked from the streets when their parents' backs were turned. Phineas gently herded them all to the gates, which were now, of course, barred, and tried to explain the situation to the guards. At least, he would have done so, had he not seen it again.

The hobbe stood near the gate. Several children called out to it; they still l thought it was one of them, and wanted to know how it had learned magic, for magic was a gift seemingly lost in Albion.

The hobbe simply pointed to Phineas, then to the guards on top of the walls, and shook his head. Phineas understood; somehow, if any of the guards were involved with the slave ring, he may be endangering the children, as well as his own life.

So, with one long, last look at the hobbe, Phineas took the children to an empty of them craned their necks to look back at the hobbe, but it had already slunk into the shadows.

It was a long night. Phineas stood watch over the children. Many were cryiing, fearful, and hungry, so Phineas calmed them down the way he knew best.

He told them a story.

'Once upon a time,' he began in a firm, warm voice, 'there was a young man who dreamed of becoming an adventurer. First, he had to get some experience, so he became part of a crew who delivered trade goods, like furniture and meat and beer. He was trustworthy, and worked very hard, so he eventually managed to become first mate. One day, the captain called the young man into his office and said, "Young man, we have a very special cargo to deliver. We are going to land in Aurora, where we will pick up a chest filled with jet and emeralds and sapphires and diamonds and rubies, and even … amethysts. We need to deliver this cargo safely to Bowerstone Market, because the lord of the castle wants to make a wedding present for his bride. Now, as you know, young man, these waters are infested with pirates, and I trust only you of all the crew. I need you to help me sneak this chest on board with our regular cargo, and hide it away, but in such a way that nothing seems out of the ordinary. Can you do this without arousing suspicion? I can't give the entire crew shore leave, as they will immediately know something is amiss."

'Of course, the young man was eager to do a good job, but wondered how he could go about it. So, he devised a plan. First, he had to open the chest, which had been placed, with only the captain on guard, amidst their chests of leather and fabric. At first, the young man was dazzled by the contents of the chest, even though they opened it at night, in order to avoid being seen. It was filled with so many lustrous, brilliantly cut gems, that the young man knew that the entire chest must be worth at least one-million in gold. He thought about a beautiful woman in his home country; a woman he wanted to marry. He thought about how he could afford the beautiful mansion he had promised her if he took just a few gems, and how he could take her on adventures with him, and how they would never go hungry. Then, he realised that he was a trustworty man, and that he could not, on his honour, let the captain down. So, he wiped the beautiful gems out of his mind, and started to think about how to get them on board.

'This is what he did: the young man happened to be able to sew well, for his father had once been a tailour. So, he and the captain opened a shipment of women's clothing which was on its way to Albion. There, with no light, and only his touch and memory to guide him, the young man sewed each and every gem into a seam of clothing, hiding it. Then, they put different articles into different crates, marking the wood with symbols which seemed like nicks from use, and which only they would recognise. Women's clothing was unlikely to go missing, in comparison to their other goods, since Auroran fashion was not as popular in Albion as it is now. Even now, of course, it is not as popular as some other styles, but I won't bore you with that!

'At sea, everything seemed to be going well. The crew seemed none the wiser about the precious cargo, and the young man and the captain started to believe that none of the pirates could have heard of it. Of course, that doesn't mean that pirate attacks don't happen, even for ships with quite average sorts of cargo. Day after day, the man and the captain waited to see if an attack would occur, but it did not.

'Finally, they all made it into port, and the cargo was delivered safely. The young man unpicked countless seams, extracted the gems, and sewed the clothing right up again. The jewels were delivered safely to the lord of the castle, and do you know what he did? Nothing. He gave no reward for the work well done, except the standard fee of delivery.

'The next week, the young man was at sea again on the captain's Ship, and the dreaded Pirate King attacked. The Pirate King kills for sport, and is greedy beyond the measure of anyone else in the world. The first thing the Pirate King does is shoot the captain of the ship he is pursuing, for he can shoot anything, no matter how far away, with his pistol, and is thought to posses the Skill of the Old Kingdom Heroes. Nobody knows for sure what made him the way he is. Some say an unquenchable greed, and others say a thirst for violence. Others still say that he suffered a great loss as a young man, and that ever since then, it has been so hard for him to feel good things that he has to find something to enjoy in all that is bad and wicked about the world.

'The young man escaped the ship, which was not far from shore, diving in and swimming back. On his way, he realised something; it is better to be a trustworthy, faithful man, who guards and protects a great treasure with no reward, than to be a man who has everything, and neither feels any joy nor respects anything on earth.

'For the Pirate King still lives in his vast house in Bloodstone city, caring nothing for others and deriving pleasure from their pain, while the young man, although poor, went on the have many adventures, and to marry the beautiful woman he loved. What do you say to that, children?'

The children all murmured approval. A little boy, whose name was Derek, piped up, 'Sir! Sir! Could you tell us another one?'

Phineas smiled. 'Oh, alright then …'

And so, they passed the long, tense night.

The next day, when the gates opened, Phineas saw each and every child to their front door, making sure not to be noticed by their parents. He praised his headscarf, which was still in place; he was anonymous, for the time being. His heart soared every time little Billy or young Jane was welcomed with the embrace of their mother and father, but often as not, he felt a pinch of anger to see a child return to a den of drink or abuse.

By the time he had returned every child to their parent, he was late for work.

He knew he would not be able to return to the office again, for his boss had made it clear that he would be replaced as soon as he missed a shift.

Weary and dazed, Phineas made his way back home, with one thought only on his mind: _'What on earth can I tell Charity?'_

Charity had been beside herself with worry. When Phineas returned, she would not even wait for him to wash, despite his protestations. 'Oh, Phineas, what happened? I've been out of my mind with worry? Are you alright? I _knew_ that trader would stop you getting home. I saw him from the window on his way to the square. I've never seen such a fraud in my whole life, and everyone was silly enough to crowd around him like he was Lord Fairfax. Oh Phin, what would I do without you?'

Phineas, who never hid anything from Charity, set about telling her of his adventure while he washed. Charity interjected with exclamations of, 'No!' or, 'Magic! Are you sure? I thought the ways of Will were lost.' She also seemed incredulous that a mere child could be a powerful mage.

At this point, Phineas stopped what he was doing and said, 'Charity, you know what a hobbe is, don't you?'

Charity froze. 'Yeeees. It's a small monster, isn't it? I mean, I don't know anything official. The old stories say that they are children kidnapped by evil nymphs and transformed into unageing monsters, who feast on human flesh and are devoid of remorse or civilised qualities. I know that something _like_ that exists, but then again, who ever sees that sort of thing?'

Phineas ansered, 'I did. Last night. The child magician. It was a hobbe.'

'Oh Phin - '

'It's true, Charity. I've seen them before.'

Charity was shocked. She sat down. After a moment of silence, she said, 'I'm going to make some tea, and you can tell me everything.'

Once the water was boiled and the tea leaves were steeped, Phineas sat, as if in a daze, next to Charity. She squeezed his hand as he gazed at the fire in the grate.

Finally, Phineas began, 'It was on a small island off Hook Coast. Our ship had stopped in port for repairs due to foul weather. The town was a port town. Used to be. There were … everyone was dead. All the adults had been slaughtered by hobbes. I think the hobbes used to be their own children. It's true that there were no little nymphs prancing about, but something … there were no child bodies, so that's the conclusion we made. They are real, you see. Just because you don't see them all the time, doesn't mean they aren't real. They attacked us. They _ate_ some of the crew. There's just nothing in their eyes. They kill, they eat. Somehow, they reproduce, although I don't know if nymphs and rituals have anything to do with it. So what I saw tonight … it was a hobbe. Usually, they're not smart enough for magic, but … I've seen it. Some hobbes – the bigger ones – summon the dead to fight for them. That's what I saw tonight. Maybe the things they say about children and hobbes aren't true. Perhaps they're just a naturally-occuring, dangerous pest. I really can't say.'

There was a long silence. Finally, Charity said, 'I didn't know … I knew there was something _like_ a hobbe in real life, but people exaggerate. So many still believe the old stories, you can't tell sometimes.'

Phineas looked at her squarely. 'You believe me, don't you?'

Charity nodded. 'Of course I do. I'm just stunned. I'm also confused. It sounds like they're not really … human. Why would one suddenly decide to help out some captured children? You hear of them as these … well animals. Killers. Predators. Why would there be a single, different one?'

'I don't know, Charity. I don't know. What I do know is we need to get out of here. And now, I don't have a job. I don't know how we'll ever get out.'

Charity stroked his back and murmured soothingly. 'Don't worry. Something will happen. You're a good man, and you know what you're doing. You'll see. It'll be fine. We'll find a way, together. At least it all worked out alright. You did a good thing, looking after all those children. You're going to be a wonderful father.'

Despite his worry, Phineas smiled, and gently stroked Charity's pregnant belly.

That afternoon, after a meager lunch, Phineas knew he had to go out and find a new job. Thus, he bundled himself up in his clothes again and went into the streets.

The crowds surrounding the new trader had dwindled significantly through the morning, and Phineas could see that the trader was alone in his portable stall. Curiosity compelled him to approach.

The sign above the stall read 'MYSTICAL MURGO', and the stall itself was furnished with general bric-a-brac and, well, junk. It was hung with colourful banners, which were as bright as the trader himself.

The trader wore a fine, burgundy suit, with patent leather shoes, green trim, and a tall, shiny top-hat of the finest calibre. His moustache was so long and rigid it was almost its own character, standing out with a flamboyant curl on each side of his face. He was plump and shiny, and seemed unlikely to have gone hungry in the recent past.

The trader called out to stragglers, trying to keep trade going. Phineas immediately realised that the trader had a lisp, but soon forgot about that, due to his intense amusement at what the trader purported to be selling.

'Genuine magical brooms, for one day only!' cried Murgo. 'They can fly! That's right, ladies and gents! Throw one off a cliff and watch it fly to the bottom! Magic apples! Maaaagic appppples! Come and get yours today! You never know what you will find in them. A worm?! Two worms?! Half a worm?! It's always a mystery until you try! And here, my good sir, we have a spoon guaranteed to feed you forever, for only five gold! That's right, five gold, and you will be fed for the rest of your life. Please note, good sir, you must supply the food yourself!'

After a while, Murgo set his gaze upon Phineas. 'You, my good sir! Yes, you! What might you be looking for? Come and examine Murgo's collection of wonders, and artefacts from the Old Kingdom!'

Phineas smiled lopsidedly. 'I'm afraid I have no use for magic apples.'

Murgo laughed, 'Not at all, sir! Why, I had you pegged as a different type entirely! Might I suggest, instead, this treasure map? Guaranteed to lead you to a chest. You never know what might be inside! It might be a fortune in gold. Or it might be a strip of rancid beef jerky! Everyday is a surprise with Murgo's fine merchendise!'

Phineas grimaced. 'I think not.'

'But good sir, think! Only five gold!'

'Five gold is a not-insignificant sum.'

Murgo cocked his head, considering Phineas. 'Very well, good sir. I see you are not interested. I, however, see something in you. I recognise an entrepreneur when I see one. How about this; a free gift, for today only, and one customer only.'

Phineas said, 'No, really, I must be going …'

Murgo plopped a large book into his hands. 'There you are, sir, on the house. I've been meaning to get rid of it, anyway. It's frankly embarrassing to have my own publication on the shelves. Now, now, no buts! If you don't want it, sell it. I'd keep it, though. Might learn a thing or two. It worked for me!'

Frustrated, Phineas tucked the book under his arm and left without checking the title. After all, it might fetch a few gold at the book shop. Behind him, he heard Murgo announce, 'The secret of eternal life, available here! Come and get the secret to false advertising, free with the secret to eternal life!'

Phineas spent the entire day searching for work, but by the time the evening shadows were lengthening, he had nothing to show for his trouble. He decided to try and sell the book before the shops closed.

Inside the Bowerstone book shop, the shopkeeper was occupied with a patron. While waiting in line, Phineas looked at the book for the first time all day. On the hard, brown cover, written in gold lettering, was the title: _Murgo's Big Book of Trading,_ by Mystical Murgo. Phineas flipped the book open to a random chapter. The title screamed: _How to Scam a Sucker._

Embarrassed, Phineas left with the book still under his arm before anyone could see.

When Phineas passed the square in Old Town, the trader was gone.

Charity laughed uproariously when Phineas told her about the trader. 'Well I never! No wonder he didn't sell much?'

'Didn't sell _much_? So he sold something?'

'Oh, he made a few sales, from what I know. Ellery told me from across the road. Oh, don't worry, she didn't come in; she shouted over the gutter. Anyway, regarding the sales the trader made, I suppose it's wishful thinking on the part of the buyer. Even I'd love to see a real Old Kingdom artefact. Still, he was very blatantly lying. Proud of it, it seems.'

'Yes,' said Phineas, eyeing the book. 'Quite disgraceful, really. 'Of course, most people should know better. But if you're going to make claims like that … Well, the buyer should at least get something of value.'

After a supper of toast and tea, Charity retired to bed. Phineas, unable to sleep, mulled over how they were going to make the rent. Finally, he managed to doze off by the fire.

Phineas awoke to the sound of a heavy object falling onto the wooden floorboards. Startled, he jumped upright, to find that Murgo's book had slid off his lap. He stooped to pick it up, and saw that the front cover had come away from the binding partially. Something glinted in the firelight. Examining closer, Phineas found a small, silver key, and a hand-drawn map to a location outside Bowerstone on Rookridge road. The map said, in neat, cursive letters: 'Chest here. Not the one with jerky. Keep key after.'

The next day, as soon as it was light, Phineas made his way outside town, finding the chest through his knowledge of the natural landmarks. To his astonishment, there was, indeed, an iron chest, hidden by brush and undergrowth. The number '1' was engraved neatly onto the tarnished surface. Carefully, Phineas withdrew the key and unlocked the chest.

Inside, there was gold. Not that much gold, granted. Not enough to accomplish much.

Still, there was enough to buy a house.

Phineas did not know what to think. He wanted to thank the trader; to ask him why.

But the trader was gone.

…...

 _'So, let me get this straight,' Lionheart said, straightening up in his chair, 'Your uncle Phineas knew Murgo?'_

 _'Yes, it's true,' Barnum confirmed. 'Strange, isn't it? I know he was in Old Town the day I met you and your young sister. Seems like he pops up every now and again. You hear that he used to be around long before Uncle Phineas, but I can't believe that would be the same person. Why, imagine how old he'd be now! He'd be positively decontinent by now!'_

 _While Lionheart had no idea what 'decontinent' could possibly mean, he understood what Barnum was trying to say. He replied, 'It seems not all of Murgo's goods are junk. I heard him trying to peddle exactly the same things the other day; brooms, apples, the secret to eternal life. Of course, he did sell Rose and I a real Old Kingdom artefact, and he seems to have sold your Uncle Phineas something worthwhile. Or gave it to him, rather. Strange. Murgo doesn't usually give things away.'_

 _Barnum shrugs. 'Who can comprefind it? Anyway, I should get on with the story ...'_


End file.
